Chasing Torment
by Hordepally
Summary: Sequel to "Irredeemable". Samantha sold the Joker out to save Jim Gordon and now the Joker is after her. As obsession and guilt devour her she finds herself in a far worse position than she ever imagined. COMPLETE.Violence/Sexual Situations/Language/Drugs
1. Chapter 1 Better run, better hide

**Disclaimer: **I don't own any TDK characters.

**A/N:** Ok, so here goes. I couldn't stay away for too long, haha.

**CHAPTER ONE**

Better run, better hide

The woman made her way down the sidewalk, moving with a relaxed, confident gait. Anyone watching her would barely notice her limp, which she took great pains to hide. Her shoulder length dark hair swayed with every step and in her smart black boots and tailored black leather coat she cut a stylish figure.

She was now Erica Bellamy and she was hiding. Hiding in plain sight of course but she had hoped the change in appearance and the name change would suffice. Maybe he would never guess she was still in the city, thinking she had run to nearby Parnall or someplace else. Who would be stupid enough to rat on the Joker and remain in the city?

'That would be me.' she thought wryly.

After her attempt to have the Joker apprehended failed she knew she had to disappear. He didn't seem to be the forgiving type and she knew he wouldn't understand her attack of conscience, seeing as how he didn't have a conscience himself. So she had sold her beloved little house on the secluded outskirts of Gotham, moved into the city and gotten a technical support job.

The more she thought of it, the more insane it seemed. Commissioner Gordon had begged her to get out of the city but she'd adamantly refused. The Joker was not going to chase her out of this town. And maybe she had a touch of a death wish as well, but she preferred not to think of that.

Gordon pulled all of the necessary strings to rush the process and she got a new birth certificate, new name, new social security number, the works. She'd had her hair cut and dyed dark, she even wore blue contact lenses. The Joker had often remarked on her green-yellow eyes. She was nearly unrecognizable from the scruffy woman of a few months ago. Samantha Knight had officially dropped off the planet.

All this because of _him_. The beautiful monster she had betrayed with only the best of intentions. The man she still thought of daily and still with the same mixture of desire, trepidation and fury. She suspected he thought of her too and could only imagine what went through his head.

She came to her building and rode the elevator to her third floor apartment. When she got to the hallway she picked up her pace, eager to get inside, key already in hand.

After she got in she locked the three sets of deadbolts and kicked off her boots with a sigh. She made her phone call to GCPD and settled down on her leather sofa, lit a cigarette and waited for the news to come on. She could change her name and her looks but she was still the same creature of habit. Her world revolved around habits now, little things to calm her thoughts, things to bring her a few steps closer to happiness.

Speaking of happiness...she opened her purse and extracted a small pill wrapped in cellophane from a cigarette pack, a razor blade, a cut piece of straw and a small hose clamp with the screw removed so it could be straightened. Not bothering to get a plate she grated half the pill to a fine powder on her coffee table. No matter how many times she performed this ritual it always sent a jolt of anticipation through her. She couldn't bring herself to feel bad for doing something so self destructive...she just didn't care anymore. At one time he had made her feel like this. The Joker had been the drug and the razor and the deadened bliss that followed.

Cutting the white dust into a line with her new license she grasped the straw and inhaled deeply.

--

When the six o' clock news came on she leaned forward, elbows on knees, clenching her hands unconsciously. She always got a nervous feeling in her gut when the news came on. But there was nothing tonight, no bank robberies, nothing blown up. Samantha felt herself relaxing. The Joker had dropped out of sight after the incident at her house four months ago.

_The incident at her house._

She recalled the way Jim Gordon looked at her after he saw the note, the way his eyes hardened with suspicion. He and Batman staring at her with all sorts of unspoken questions while she retched helplessly on her lawn. The humiliation of the note he had left on her bed. Luckily she was able to convince them it was all lies. The Joker's idea of a sick game, that it hadn't been like that, that she had never slept with him and to even consider it was disgusting. She had told them the Joker had come back to try to kidnap her again and she had managed to slip away long enough to call the police. Astonishingly they seemed to accept this story, unwilling to accept she might have been having sex with the Joker voluntarily.

She still hadn't forgiven herself for those lies, probably never would. The truth was intolerable though. The truth would mark her as a freak and worse. Let Jim Gordon and Batman think she was a hapless victim. The truth would bury her, might even land her in Arkham. She told herself that didn't matter anymore. She'd redeemed herself by making the phone call to Gordon that night. To this day he had no idea she'd probably saved his life, as well as Batman's.

Then again, she thought grimly, maybe he hadn't planned on killing them at all. Maybe he _wanted_ her to sound the alarm. Just to shake things up a little.

What had she said to him that same night, before it all happened?

_"You have nothing to threaten me with now. Nothing to do with all your power. Because, you see, I have nothing to lose anymore."_

Well she had been wrong. Her words had issued an irresistible challenge to the Joker. And he loved a challenge.

And, just like he'd said, he always got the last laugh.

--

When she finally fell asleep that night it was uneasily, as it always was. He trailed her even into her dreams.

_She hunched in her cubicle, frowning over a particularly annoying caller. Some people really had no business owning a computer and the man she was on the phone with was one of them. The comforting hum of her co-worker's voices surrounded her. She glanced at the clock. Twenty minutes until a smoke break. Ah, now _that_ would be bliss. She'd stopped smoking ten years ago but had recently started again. Samantha had no regrets about it, didn't consider herself weak for going back. She was accustomed to far unhealthier vices. Smoking was nothing._

_The murmur of voices stopped and suddenly...silence. Her caller was gone, the phone dead. The sudden quiet was like a slap in the face._

_And then the screams began, high pitched and horrifying._

_"Down on the floor!" a low voice commanded and one of her cohorts whimpered in submission._

_"So, ah, _where is she_?" A different voice. One she knew as well as her own._

_"Hm? Sure-lyyyy you know who I'm talking about. A beautiful, ha, bitch. Has a limp. Green eyes. Name is Sam-an-tha Knight."_

_Whoever he was talking to was gibbering in agony and fear. The sound of a shotgun blast made her jump. It was so loud it seemed to shake the walls. The voice of whoever he had been tormenting fell silent._

_"Come onnnnnn. Tell me where she is and I'll go away. I just want what's _mine_." His patience, what little he had, was running out, she could tell by his tone._

_Samantha stood up, hardly understanding why she'd do something so foolish, but feeling compelled to._

_The office was in ruins. Papers were everywhere, soaked crimson with the blood of people she knew. The flourescent light fixtures hung haphazardly from the ceiling, smoke filled the air and bodies were sprawled on top of each other, twisted in positions no living person would want to get in. A few computers had caught fire. Everyone was dead except for Samantha, the Joker, and his men. She vaguely wondered how this much destruction ocurred so quickly and with so little noise._

_His eyes locked onto her the instant she entered his line of sight, and for a moment he simply stood there, watching her from across the room. He looked as if he couldn't believe she was there._

_"I'm here" she said softly and he smiled at the sound of her voice._

_He started towards her, sawed off shotgun swinging casually in his hand. _

_"Ready to come back to me Sam?" he asked and it seemed as if the Joker walking towards her was on an endless loop. He kept walking and never got close, she might as well have been a mile from him instead of a few feet._

_She didn't say a thing, merely stared in horrified amazement...and excitement. That old familiar feeling was back, as if it had been lurking under the surface, just waiting to come back._

_"I'll never stop Samantha...never stop looking for ya. Come with me and I _might_, uh, forgive you." Those black eyes looking at her so slyly, promising her things she never wanted, never asked for. And God help her, she wanted to come with him and yet she wanted to run away._

_With dawning horror she realized she was frozen in place. He was coming for her but never quite got to her and she could not move away from him or near him. They were destined to play this out forever. It would never end._

Her eyes snapped open to the welcome darkness of her bedroom. The damned dreams. She wondered if they would ever stop. She briefly thought of taking Gordon's advice that she see a psychiatrist and just as swiftly dismissed the idea. To see a psychiatrist would mean she'd eventually have to tell the truth of what happened and that she simply could not do. And the notion of yet another person digging into her mind, asking questions, trying to force her to _feel_ was infinitely unappealing. No, she'd cope with this on her own. If it devoured her, so be it.

* * *

**A/N: **So we see Sam is trying to hide from the Joker but can't quite bring herself to leave the city. She's also developing some nasty vices due to guilt and trauma. You can't spend a few months with a guy like Mr. J and emerge unscathed and Sam was never very normal to begin with. She's slowly yet surely slipping down the rabbit hole

* * *


	2. Chapter 2 Something of importance

**A/N: **Thanks to my reviewers and readers!

This chapter is all Joker.

**CHAPTER TWO**

Something of importance

"I need to talk to the boss" the man said impatiently to the thugs blocking his way. "Now let me the through. It's important, okay? If he found out you wouldn't let me in when I got this kind of information for him he'd carve you both up like a turkey."

The masked men exchanged glances and one knocked on the door. No one answered so he knocked louder.

"What, what, what?! What do you want!!" a voice screamed from the other side. The boss didn't seem to be in a good mood today.

"Got a guy here for you. Says he has some info you might want to know."

Silence.

"Ok, ah, let him in then."

They let him in and the man skittered hesitantly into the room. It was gloomy in here and he had to let his eyes adjust for a second.

"Well??" God he hated that voice.

The owner of the voice was seated in the corner of the room, feet propped up on a coffee table. His hiked up pants leg revealed mismatched socks that took gaudy to a whole new level. Sometimes he second guessed himself on working for this creepy fucker who reminded him of the offspring between the clown from "It" and a Manson girl. The things you did to gain extra cash. His new job at GCPD fixing boilers and toilets just hadn't cut it so when the Joker's men had dangled all that money in front of him just to keep his eyes and ears open he wasn't about to refuse. He'd specifically been told to find out information on women who had changed their personal information and seemed to be in hiding.

"Welllll what is it Steve?" the Joker asked, suddenly pleasant. "What have you learn-ed for me?"

His name wasn't Steve but as far as he was concerned the Joker could call him Stacy, he wasn't going to correct him.

"That woman...the one who called the cops on you. Samantha. I found out where she's hiding."

"Oh?" The boss's feet dropped from the coffee table and his whole body began fidgeting weirdly.

"Yeah, she changed her name, her hair, the works. But get this, the dumb bitch is still living in the city."

"Hmm."

"One of the new cops told me all about her. I got her address, where she works, everything you could possibly need. See, I _knew_ some dirty cops would end up slipping into Gotham PD. The Commissioner can't get 'em all."

He was quite proud of himself. Really, the Joker should pat him on the back for this. Not that he really wanted this weirdo touching him. A promotion would be nicer. Enforcer maybe...that had a nice ring to it.

The boss hopped up, moving closer. No matter how many times he saw that face he couldn't get used to it. A nightmare of red, white and black paint, yellowed teeth and greasy green tinted hair. He didn't know where to rest his eyes and yet he also knew staring was a very very bad idea. The best thing was to just look at the floor or the wall.

"Well, ah, let's have it then, hm?" The Joker growled impatiently.

He handed the Joker a piece of paper scrawled with notes and details of what he'd discovered and watched apprehensively as that hideous mouth grinned down at it.

"Very good Steve. Is that all? That's _everything _you know, right?" he pressed, grin widening on his face.

"Yeah! That's all you need to know. You want me to get some guys to go get her? Or do you want us to just fuck her up for you?" Never very smart, he had gained confidence at his boss's approval. "We could really mess her up for y..."

"No." The Joker interrupted. His hand itched to reach into his coat pocket and blow the back of this man's head out but he still needed him. As consolation he told himself he'd do it later, when his usefulness was tapped out.

"Why are you still here?" he asked Steve. The man's piggish face annoyed him. "Leave."

Without another word Steve left, almost tripping over his own feet in his eagerness to get away.

--

He stood in the same place for many minutes, gnawing the insides of his cheeks. So she was still in Gotham, just like he'd suspected. It would have been so easy to go somewhere else and yet...she stayed. Now he _knew_ she wanted him to find her. And oh, how he wanted to find her. So now...well they'd both get their wish.

They had a lot to talk about.

He had to admit, he hadn't expected her to sneak off and summon the entire GCPD after him. Her hypocrisy enraged him but the grudging respect he'd always felt for her had grown. She'd _used_ him, gotten what she wanted and then tried to have him captured. After all he'd done for her. As if he were nothing.

If she knew the things he'd done in the past she wouldn't have dared.

He thought back to a few years ago, before his rise in Gotham. He'd done a few jobs for the mob back then, staying hidden and using a go between to do business. One of the things he'd done was kidnap the daughter of a major mob player in Parnall that had angered the much more powerful Gotham mafia. Maroni had set the whole thing up, told him to get the daughter and hide her someplace. No torture, no killing her until he said otherwise. He had sent his men to grab her while she was coming home from a shopping trip and soon she was residing in the same room he would put Samantha Knight in a few years later.

It didn't take long before he wished he'd asked for more money. The girl was scrawny and short, in her early twenties with strawlike blonde hair, vacant blue eyes and a put-on little girl voice that made him want to reach into her mouth and yank her tongue out. And she never shut up. Ever. She begged, grovelled, cried constantly. When no one was in the room to see her little show she whined at the camera.

To his amusement she got the idea her father was behind her current predicament and promised lavish sums of money if they'd only let her go and get her father instead. The truth was her father was desperate to get his little princess back unharmed, but of course she didn't know that. The girl reminded him of a hungry rat, frantic for any little morsel of food, willing to cannibalize to get it.

After a few days she realized this approach wasn't working so she started propositioning his men when they brought her food. He made a point to tell them if they took her up on the offer she would be the last piece of ass they'd ever get.

And then the day came when Maroni sent word to kill her and to make sure it was on camera. He wanted the tape sent to the girl's father. Negotiations with her father must have went badly. Or maybe Maroni planned it that way from the start. The Joker never knew and didn't particularly care. He'd been positively gleeful as he skipped into the room, pinned her against the wall and, with no hesitation, taken a vegetable peeler to her face.

She'd put up quite a fight before collapsing to the floor, telling him she'd do _anything_ if he would spare her. He could take her mother, her sister. He could even screw her, she'd said, eyes bright with agony and terror. Just don't do _this_ to her_._

He had merely stared down at her, at the skinless ribbons of red on her face where he'd used the peeler. Her words meant nothing and no pity stirred within him. Finally he'd taken his switchblade and finished her off, making sure the camera caught it all. Then he'd had his men drag her body outside and burn it.

He couldn't even remember her name.

The wheels turned in his head, ideas and plans forming. The Joker often told people he didn't plan things, but that was a lie. To be honest it just sounded good. None of the carnage he'd inflicted on Gotham could have been done without plans. Acting crazier than he really was worked well for him, it made naive people dismiss him as a mere instrument, it made weak people pity him and want to "help" him, it made stupid people underestimate him. He was indeed a dog chasing cars, but a very smart dog.

And when he caught a car he _always_ knew what to do with it. Anyone who doubted that could ask Harvey Dent or Rachel Dawes...if either of them were still alive to ask.

--

**A/N: **So thanks to a crooked maintenance guy and yet another crooked cop (they're like cockroaches in Gotham!) Sam is found out. The Joker's mulling over his experience with the mobster's daughter is meant to illustrate just how bad he is and what he could have done to Sam. He has feelings for her, which is the only reason she's still alive. He went to the trouble of killing David for her, brought her painkillers during her captivity, put money into her bank account, released her, etc. For him these actions are a big deal and, yes, he's actually a bit hurt (and angry) that she turned on him. He baited her into it but a small part of him hoped she would turn a blind eye to his plans and just _accept_ what he might do. The fact she can instill emotion in him both fascinates the Joker and fills him with resentment. He'd like to think he's above the messy emotions of lesser beings but Samantha proves him wrong.

As you can probably already tell this story is darker than the first. It was kind of a natural progression after the way Irredeemable ended.

The Joker and Sam will also be meeting up very very soon ;)


	3. Chapter 3 Again

**A/N:** Love to all my reviewers and readers. You guys are really too awesome for words. TY so much :)

The Joker and Sam are also about to meet again!

The section in italics is a conversation with Gordon Sam is recalling.

Oh and the FF email notification thing has been hinky so if you get a zillion mails announcing this chapter I'm sorry.

**CHAPTER THREE**

Again

The walk home from work. Every day she did this and though it was a short trip and the street was always humming with people she was always nervous about it. She could drive but with Gotham's traffic she could walk and get to work faster. Retrieving her car from her apartment building's parking garage seemed ten times riskier than walking down a busy street anyway.

She cursed the metal detectors at her job that prevented her from carrying a gun. Her .38 had been given up for a .44. It was a bit large for her liking, it also had a damn nasty kick to it, but it could put an impressive hole in whatever it hit.

As she walked she thought of her conversations with Jim Gordon and she wondered if maybe she should move away from Gotham. Make a clean start, stop doing pills and forget about the Joker. She knew she was destroying herself and it was because of _him_. She felt like a completely different person nowadays and not in a good way.

The last few years were finally taking their toll and the night she'd turned the Joker in had been the catalyst. The guilt and the fear and the feelings of still wanting him were eating away at her. She could hardly believe how fast she'd deteriorated. If the Joker knew the shape she was in, how she felt one step away from losing it altogether, he'd be pleased.

--

_"I still want you to call the station twice a day, every day." Gordon told her. "When you get to work first thing in the morning and again when you get home."_

_She came to his office once a week to let him know how she was doing and he gave her updates on their search for the Joker, which was at a standstill. He had vanished after that night, the dogs had lost his scent and that was that. Four months later and still nothing._

_Despite this Samantha showed up at his office faithfully. She'd learned much about the Joker, how he had turned Gotham upside down, how he'd had a hand in Rachel Dawes and possibly even Harvey Dent's deaths and how in the end he'd been caught only to escape en route to GCPD. Samantha had known about these things but when they were going on she was living in Parnall, recovering from her injuries in the car wreck, and in those days she'd only half paid attention to the news, uninterested in some freaky terrorist in another town. But now she couldn't get enough of Gordon's stories about the Joker, listening intently, trying not to look too eager._

_She nodded. His concern was appreciated but they both knew if he found out where she lived and worked all the phone calls in the world wouldn't keep him from getting to her._

_"Just a precaution." he added. "I think you'll be fine. Gotham's a big city and you've done a great job of changing yourself. But I still wish you'd reconsider your decision to stay here. Even if the chance is small, you still don't want to play those odds. Not with _him._ You know that as well as I. Because if he finds you..."_

_"I know, I know." she sighed, trying to hide the exasperation in her voice. He meant well but they'd been over this so many times. Besides, she didn't need to hear from Gordon what the Joker might do to her if he found her. Her imagination ran overtime on that as it was._

_Sensing she didn't want to hear what he was saying Gordon changed the subject._

_"Want a cookie?" he asked, giving her a conspirator's smile. He opened his desk and brought out a plate covered in aluminum foil. "My kids made them. Not too bad actually."_

_"Sure." she answered, grinning despite herself. Gordon had no idea but he was her only friend, the one person she'd been able to count on in a long time, and times like these let her know she had done the right thing that awful night. Doing the right thing was an unusual feeling. Unusual but nice. Taking a bite of cookie she considered what she was about to ask him. _

_"About Harvey Dent..." she began hesitantly. "Batman didn't kill him, did he? Or those other people."_

_Gordon frowned at her and she instantly regretted asking him that. She didn't even know why she had done so._

_"Between you and me? No he didn't." he finally answered and his face was suddenly so careworn and sad Samantha wanted to kick herself for doing this to him. But still she pressed on._

_"I don't need to ask how it all got started. The Joker did it, didn't he? And no, he never said anything to me about it. I knew very little about it. I was in the hospital when all that was going down. But here lately I've been reading up on it all."_

_"Then you know how insidious he is." he answered quickly, an angry edge to his voice and Samantha nodded in agreement. He didn't know the half of it, and hopefully he never would._

_"But Batman was there that night. At my house. If he's wanted then why was he right there with all those cops around?"_

_Gordon smiled wanly. "Some of us still believe in him."_

--

Out of the corner of her eye she saw a cab cruising slowly behind her. She quickened her pace, her bad leg preventing her from going too fast. The passenger side door opened and a large man quickly got out, heading straight for her.

She was almost to her door. Almost. Then she was at the entrance, lunging for the door handle, not caring if she was being paranoid.

Strong arms clamped over her, holding her fast and she felt herself being pulled backwards.

She thrashed, furiously twisting and elbowing, a scream coming out of her mouth before a hand clapped over it, shutting it in. She was being dragged towards the cab, thrown in the back. The door slammed and she was trapped.

"Bastard!" she hissed and launched herself at the man in the passenger side, the one who had grabbed her, punching him hard in the temple. He yelped in pain and the driver laughed. She tried the door only to see with sinking fear it had no door handles. Fury and terror coursing through her, she turned her attention back to the men.

She came over the seat, intending to get the driver, determined to make him wreck the cab. The passenger tried to hold her back and she punched him again, feeling his nose squish to the side.

"Put her out!" yelled the driver, "She's gonna make us crash, do it now!"

She grabbed the driver, trying to dislodge him from his spot before she felt a prick in her leg. A shot of something. She continued to come at the driver, raining blows on him while he cringed and struggled to maintain control of the vehicle, screaming at the top of her lungs the whole time, hoping someone on the street would hear her.

Darkness started to seep in the corners of her vision and she felt her arms and legs slowing.

'Fight it, fight, fight!' she silently screamed to herself but it wasn't helping. She was falling.

--

She felt like she was surfacing from the bottom of a deep lake, swimming up to the sun. If she could reach it she would be okay. Her eyes fluttered and she took a deep gasp of air. She had made it. Everything would be okay. She'd reached the light.

Or not.

The sun was only a bare light bulb on the ceiling and she was lying on a dirty carpet.

With a jolt she remembered what had happened and tried to get to her feet, only to fall facedown.

Then the laughing came, both delighted and unfathomably cruel, and Sam moaned aloud in despair.

"She broke my nose" someone said in a peculiar nasal tone. "I know you said only to tranq her if we had to. She was fighting too hard, trying to make us wreck. She woulda got us all killed."

"Hm, she put a hell of a beating on both of you didn't she?"

"Broke my damn nose." the first voice said again.

"Yes, so you already said. Now...get...out. I have some, um, some _catching up_ to do with my former lov-er."

Shuffling boots, the sound of a door shutting. Locks clicking into place. Sounds she knew only too well.

Someone knelt next to her, gloved hands slapping at her face none too gently.

"Wake up now. Come onnnnn."

She was turned over onto her back and his face came into focus. White, red and black. A glimmer of amused shark eyes. Samantha wanted to shut her own eyes against the sight of him but found she couldn't. There he was, her doom, and all she could do was stare. A masochistic part of her was almost glad to see him but mostly she was terrified. She'd gone too far and now all she could hope for was a semi-quick death. Defeat washed over her in a humiliating wave.

"Ohhhh, I know youuuuu!" he said in mock surprise.

--

**A/N: **Umm yeah...Sam is in trouble.

Also, when I started Irredeemable I never really thought if the story was pre, during, or post TDK so I decided to make it post. Hence Sam and Jim's talk about Dent and Batman. In my version the Joker managed to escape after being captured at the end of TDK and some of Gotham's finest have sorta come to their senses about Gotham's watchful protector being a murderer. The ones that know better would be Gordon's right hand men, the ones he'd call in to tricky situations where Batman might be needed. (Like Sam's late night phone call to Gordon to come get a certain psychopathic clown out of her house) Wouldn't want a bunch of vengeful cops in that situation.


	4. Chapter 4 Frenzy

**CHAPTER FOUR**

Frenzy

His eyes were boring into her and she looked away, unwilling to gaze into those icy depths.

"I have a surprise for you _Erica_. Look at me and see!"

She looked at him, recognizing the dangerous edge to his voice, not about to push her already abysmal luck.

A video camera was in his hands, pointed right at her.

"I know how you, ha, just _loooove_ cameras. Now, I'd like to conduct a little...interview with you."

He knelt down next to her, camera still aimed at her. He dug in his jacket pocket with his free hand and brought out a knife. Samantha recognized it as the fillet knife she had once held under her chin.

"Why did you do that to me?" His tone was sorrowful. He twirled the knife in his hand absentmindedly and she could not take her eyes off it.

He leaned close to her, fingers brushing her cheek. "I told you I ah, wouldn't kill you so why? Do you know what they would do to me if they caught me? Hm?"

"I couldn't take it" she answered thickly. Her tongue felt like it was made of cottonballs.

"Take what?"

"The guilt."

At this his eyes widened and he burst into peals of laughter. "The guilt? Ahaha, the guilt! You are _such_ a kidder." His eyes took on a hard glitter and his mirth abruptly ended. "I don't re-call you having much guilt when we were..." He raised his eyebrows pointedly at her, tilting his head suggestively.

"It was there."

"But you couldn't help yourself, hm? Why _is_ that? Oh I know, because you're a hypocrite aren't you?"

"Yes, that's true. But I also knew you were going to die if you weren't caught." she admitted. Something told her not to mention the main reason she had turned him in, that being he had told her he was going to kill Jim Gordon and Batman.

He cocked his head and the expression on his face would have been comical under different circumstances. "_What?_ You're trying to tell me you turned me in not only because of...ha...guilt but because you were _worried_ about me? Do you take me for a fool Samantha? I _know_ you. You don't worry about any-one but yourself sweetie. Nothing wrong with that but at least be honest."

"It's true" she answered weakly "You were beaten up so bad the last times I saw you. And you'd been shot.You were getting careless and you know it. I knew you'd get killed."

"And you didn't want me to die. How touching. Really." His voice was dripping with sarcasm. "I suppose next you'll tell me you love me."

"No, of course I don't. But I didn't want to see you kill yourself."

He frowned, sucking his teeth thoughtfully.

"Come on, lets get you off this floor" he said, suddenly solicitous. He pulled her up and sat her on the bed. She swayed groggily, stomach doing somersaults.

He put the camera on a nightstand, making sure it was aimed at her.

"Like the room?" he asked "It's an old apartment building. Condemned and quite private. This is where I've been staying since you decided to do your good deed. This wonder-ful rathole of a place."

She started falling to the side and he sat next to her, propping her up with his body. "I think my men gave you a bit, um, too much medicine" he said gleefully. Samantha tried not to fall into him but couldn't quite manage it.

"Awww, ha, that's so _sweet_ how you're leaning in-to me. Just like old times, dontcha think?" he snarled, never taking his eyes off her. His left hand was playing with the knife frantically and she just knew he was entertaining thoughts on how to use it on her. Through her haze she noted how much twitchier he was than she remembered, every nerve was on edge. Even his speech was edgier.

"I liked your hair better the other way." he said, tugging hard on a strand of it "And I know you changed your name but we'll just call you Samantha, is that ok?"

She said nothing.

"Hm?"

She raised her eyes to his. She didn't know what to say, nothing was working correctly.

"ANSWER ME!" he roared and there was that voice, that guttural sound that seemed to embody every bit of his fury.

"Yes, yes ok."

He smiled at her, turning friendly in a flash. "Good. We have a lot to talk about Sam, hm?" His gaze traveled over her body and she could see his eyes darkening.

"Then again..." he pushed her backward and she fell over on the bed. "Maybe later."

He was on top of her in an instant looking intently at her terrified expression. "Is that fear I see Sam? Oh what's wrong, afraid of the ah _freak_ now? Don't want me any-more? Hm? Well I, haha, I still want _you_. Ya know, I try not to but I can't help it. I've done nothing but try to find you, did you know that? That's the only thing I've thought about since you disappeared on me. I really thought you'd went far away. But then, _then,_ I found out you hadn't went far at all. In fact you stayed in Gotham...almost like you wanted me to find you."

Even in his rage his body ground into hers and she noted he didn't seem to notice.

"Is that true Samantha? You wanted me to find you, didn't you? You can't stay away, just like I can't stay away. _You_ did this to me, and I think now I'm gonna fix it...once and for all."

"No" she whispered, meeting his eyes as steadily as she could. "Don't do this."

"No? No?? Hm. That's a first from you." He laughed but she could hear the malice there.

'I actually hurt him' she thought. 'And he's going to make me pay for that.' He probably hadn't been hurt in a long time. Wrapped in his demonic persona, thinking himself invulnerable to the agonies of common people. And then she came along. Yes, she realized, she was probably going to die a slow torturous death very very soon.

He held the knife out, regarding it, then her. "No Sam, I don't think you have a say-so in this. Just like I didn't have a say-so when you called the Comm-iss-ioner on me when I was in your bed."

He was working his way down lower, until he was almost at her feet.

"You think you know a lot about pain, don't you Sam?" he asked. "After your accident and all."

She didn't respond, not liking where this was going.

"Oh fine, don't answer me then." he said peevishly and she felt her pants leg being pulled up. His hands were on her shin, the one that had been injured, and she swallowed her growing panic. After all she'd been through with that leg. The fracture, the ensuing infection, rehabilitation, surgeries. She was protective of it. It was her most vulnerable spot and he knew it.

"Ahhh, how that must have hurt." he murmured, a tone approaching sympathy in his voice. His finger traced the scars tenderly, the feeling of leather against her flesh bringing back a hundred jumbled memories.

"But ya know I think you've forgotten about pain. All those pills you take and the other things you're doing now have made you forget, hm? I saw what you had in your purse. A razor blade and a straw? Really Sam, you've turned into such an add-ict. Does it help you forget? Does it make you, ah, feel _better _about everything?"

He paused, waiting on a response.

"Sometimes." she whispered.

Something cold and hard touched her leg and she flinched, knowing it was the knife. She knew what was coming and prepared herself, not willing to give him the pleasure of her screams.

"Sometimes." he repeated, smacking his lips. "Well...let me refresh your memory. Of pain. I'm gonna put my ha _mark_ on you. And you _will_ watch me do it. Every. Second. Of it. And if you look away I'll carve the meat from your leg and pull the surgical pins out...one after the other. And then, hm, then I might slice that face of yours up, starting with your lips. Understand me?"

Shaking despite herself she looked down at him and he smiled at her approvingly.

"Good girl."

The knife dug into her leg, right into her scars and her determination not to scream was gone. She bit it back but it was too late and he was cutting her, humming to himself absently as he did so. He was so close that she could feel his hot breath on her skin as he did his work.

"Tell me." he asked casually, as if he weren't slicing her flesh open and they were just having a normal conversation. "How do you feel now Samantha? Do you feel bad for trying to turn me in? Hm? After all I did for you and you, ha, skulk off to call Gordon and the Batman on me."

Samantha didn't answer, sickened and fascinated at the sight of her blood glistening on his gloves and on the knife. She felt faint and silently prayed she wouldn't pass out. If she did she knew she would wake up minus a few parts. That is if she even woke up.

It seemed to go on forever, maybe seconds, maybe minutes. The knife dug in one last time and a scream partially escaped her lips before she could catch it.

And then he was licking her blood up, tongue moving langorously up and down the wound. The pain was becoming a throbbing hell but she could still feel her body betraying her at his touch.

"Just to let you know Sam, what you're feeling now is _nothing_. When that shot wears off...well you're not gonna be feel-ing so good. Sorry." He was starting to breath hard, becoming excited.

'No you're not you bastard.' she thought angrily, knowing he was loving this. She suspected that when whatever she'd been injected with faded away he'd be overjoyed, studying her suffering. Gloating.

Looking up at her he smirked "Ya know...this reminds me of doing oth-er things to you."

Before she could react he was back up, in her face. With a quick motion he sliced the front of her shirt open, taking her bra with it. "Oops" he giggled "I seemed to have cut you. Again."

Her eyes traveled down to a crimson line between her breasts, blood already welling up.

He fell over her and no matter how much she willed her body to work it wouldn't. Tears of frustration and anger welled up in her eyes as his teeth sank into her throat eagerly, then went to her breasts to bite them hard. He was making that doglike snarl that used to excite her, now it frightened her unspeakably. She remembered the video camera and glanced over at it as it impassively recorded the scene. God only knew what he planned on doing with the tape.

She shut her eyes tightly, trying to think of something else, anything other than what was about to happen. He forced a knee in between her legs, undoing her jeans roughly, she could feel his hands shaking against her flesh and let out a sob. The helplessness was unbearable, she was sure that alone would drive her mad.

And then he stopped, jumping off the bed, turning away, mumbling to himself angrily. He glanced over his shoulder at her, expression unreadable, and snatched up a blanket to throw over her.

"I want you to know this Samantha. I could do things to you right now that your ah, _very worst nightmares_ couldn't even be-gin to touch. But I won't. Not right now." His voice was shaky and wild, on the very edge of control. Running his hands through his unkempt hair he shut the camera off and stalked out of the room.

Her breath coming in soft grateful gasps Sam thanked God and anyone else who might be listening.

--

She lay on the bed, glazed eyes staring at the ceiling. She wondered if anyone would miss her this time, if maybe James Gordon and Batman had kept their eyes on her. Eventually Gordon would get word she hadn't made her phone call to GCPD. But until then anything could happen. And there was still the matter of finding her.

'No, you've got to get _yourself_ out of this.' she told herself angrily.

Easier said than done. At the moment she couldn't even get her body to work properly. She practiced moving her fingers and toes, then her arms and legs. They were beginning to respond although she felt like she was moving in molasses.

With interest she noted a boarded up window by the bed, light seeping around the edges. One of the boards seemed very loose, as if it could be pulled off easily. If only she could get up she could look out to see how many floors up she was.

She propped herself up on her elbows and was starting to pull herself up when the door rattled. Instinctively she flopped down onto her back as if she were still semi paralyzed by the drugs and waited.

The door creaked open and she moved her eyes to see the Joker and one of his masked men coming into the room. She noted with growing anxiety the man had a very large dog on a leash. Samantha gulped. She hated dogs. Especially big ones. This one was exceptionally vicious looking.

"So Samantha" the Joker said, striding over to her "Are ya comfortable? You sure look it."

Turning to the other man he impatiently asked. "The shot should have worn off by now, right?"

"Yeah" he answered "She oughtta be feeling a lot more frisky right about now."

'Oh you have no idea.' she thought coldly. The effects were indeed wearing off quickly.

"Hmmmm" the Joker pondered, staring down at her. He had his knife out, tapping it against his teeth thoughtfully.

"Hey" he said to his minion, a sly expression crossing his face "Come here and take a look at _this_."

With a slight grin he ripped the blanket off her bare chest, exposing her to the man, who was now standing over her too. Fury and embarrassment flared through her but she still didn't move.

"Oh wow, nice tits on her" the man said and motioned to the cut on her chest "Looks like you been playing with her huh?" He laughed crudely. "Don't break her, I'd like to get some too."

Samantha saw an unrecognizable expression cross the Joker's face like a shadow, quickly replaced with spiteful glee.

"Want to, ah, touch her?" he asked. His voice was eerily quiet and Sam realized he was forcing her to react. He knew the shot had worn off and was just looking for another way to torment her.

"I'll take a grab at those, sure."

Emboldened, the man reached towards her. Samantha watched with horror and mounting rage as his hand drifted to her bare skin.

'No' she thought fiercely 'Not gonna happen. I am not gonna let this happen.' She threw her elbow out as hard as she could, straight into the man's groin, feeling soft flesh give way underneath her elbow bone. He screamed, sinking to his knees and Samantha happily noted her body was working just fine now. Fear, anger and adrenaline had given her that necessary push.

The dog growled at her and with one quick motion she reached out and wrenched the loose board in the window free, then immediately scrambled back onto the bed, hunched over, back against the wall.

The Joker did nothing, just stood there smiling at her curiously, tongue darting over his lips.

The dog snarled again, then let out a staccato bark. The man had let it go and it lunged at her, leaping onto the bed, fangs sinking into her thigh, thankfully not in her carved up shin. She drew the board back like a ball bat and slammed it into the dog's head with enough force to send it spinning away. Yammering in pain the dog bolted across the room and cowered against the far wall. Her blow had stunned it and it was out of the fight, wanting no more to do with the woman on the bed.

Then the man was back up, screaming at her, saying things she didn't even hear. She saw him reach into his pocket and that was all it took for her to come after him too. Something inside her had snapped and she was willing to kill everything in the room. In fact she _wanted_ to. The board whipped into his chest, then his head, splinters flying. He fell onto the floor, moaning.

Samantha turned her attention to the Joker. She distantly heard crazed panting and realized it was she who was doing it. He was there, staring at her, grinning still. As if they were old friends. As if this were all for his entertainment, which she supposed it was.

'My God he looks excited' she noted in a far corner of her brain that was still rational. 'Like he _wants_ this.'

"Come on then" he said. "I want you to do it. I want you to do it. COME ON!"

She saw a couple of the Joker's thugs come rushing through the door.

And then, knowing her time was almost up, she came at him, drawing the board back. It connected with the Joker's head and she felt herself being slammed to the floor by one of the men.

--

**A/N: **He's carved something into her leg. His punishment of her also didn't go as far as he'd initially planned, turns out he couldn't go through with all of it. The Joker's such a softy, LOL.

If you want to chat hit me up on Yahoo messenger. IM name oc1971jn


	5. Chapter 5 Breakdown

**A/N: **Ok, I guess for me this chapter is a little late but I burnt my hand the other day and it kinda took the wind out of my sails. Nothing like typing with your fingers all blistered up.

As always, thanks and much love to my readers and reviewers

Little bit of sex in this one.

**CHAPTER FIVE**

Breakdown

The Joker told his men to take her to the utility room in the basement. It took four of them to handle her, even though she was handcuffed. She was fuming and raving and bit two of them so badly they finally had to give her another shot, albeit a much smaller one than the first. Even then she fought them. The Joker followed them, laughing and humming merrily, rivulets of blood running down the side of his head. He told them in no uncertain terms what would happen if they hurt her and so they had to tolerate her teeth and kicking.

When they finally got to the room they threw her down, glad to be rid of her. She couldn't be kept there for long however. The room was small with no bathroom and the confined space only made her worse. She snarled like an animal, hyperventilating, beyond panic, beyond rage, and she thrashed so much the men were sure she'd end up knocking herself out.

Finally the Joker ordered them to leave.

He sat down on the floor next to her and at the sight of him, realizing they were alone together, she began to make a bizarre keening sound that resembled a cross between crying and moaning. Nonplussed, he waited on her to settle down.

"Get away from me." she finally said, her voice a dry rattle.

"No."

"I. Said. Get. Away from ME!!" she screamed. Her eyes were bloodshot, bright with fury and pain.

"Samantha" he said, still sounding cheery and conversational "You, ah, you _have_ to calm down. Until you do you'll stay in here."

"Don't tell me what to do, ok? You brought me here, you brought me to this...point so don't you fucking _dare_ tell me what to do."

"You brought yourself here Sam. And you know it. There were so many ways you could have avoided it." He stretched languorously "If I didn't know any better I'd think you wan-ted this, hm?"

"_Want_ this? Why would I want this? You think I enjoy this...being a prisoner? And what I did..." she stopped and held back a hopeless sob.

"What you did? You made a choice between them and you. Actually" he moved close to her, gently placing a hand on her leg. "it was beautiful. You would have killed everything in that room. It was im-pressive. The _rage_ you showed. The way you went after, ha, that stupid bast-ard and the dog...and me." He smiled and pointed to his battered head. "You got me pretty good, didn't you? If my men hadn't come in you would have killed me."

"You're trying to bring me down to your level. I'm a...social experiment to you."

"Don't kid yourself Sam, you were on my level a long time ago. You were definitely on my level the first time we...you know." He grinned sadistically, enjoying how she winced at his reminder.

"No. Sex is not the same as killing people, it doesn't make me like you."

His hand glided up and down her leg, up and down, eyes boring into her. After a moment he seemed to come to a silent conclusion and drew a small paper bag out of his coat pocket. He placed it on a cardboard box and rocked back on his heels, regarding her strangely.

"I have something for you and I'm going to take those handcuffs off. When I do don't fight me, hm? It wouldn't be a very smart idea."

She didn't answer, watching him suspiciously as he produced the key and took them off.

When she made no movement he pushed the box closer to her and motioned to it impatiently. Casting one last distrustful look at him she opened the bag and dumped the contents out. The razor, straw, hose clamp and pills from her purse. And her lighter and cigarettes.

'Good cop, bad cop ploy' she thought. 'How original.' Still she felt gratitude at the sight of these things. At least she could get a small respite.

"Why?" she asked.

"I thought you might need them right now. You've suffered enough for one day, don't you think?"

She didn't want to take this gift, fearing what he might expect in return, but the agony from where he'd carved her and the dog biting her was too much. She was tired of pain. It had been a constant companion, her _only_ companion, for far too long.

He watched silently as she did it and she ignored him, not wanting to see the look of triumph that was more than likely on his face.

She did a great deal of what she had left and afterward slumped against the wall, eyes half closed. She felt herself calming, the pain retreating. Warmth filled her and she welcomed it. Sighing at her own weakness she lit a cigarette.

"Better?" he asked and she didn't detect any sarcasm in his voice, no malevolence.

"Yes. Much."

"You know, you've changed so much since the first time I met you."

"You mean the night you flattened my car with an eighteen wheeler? Well, consider that incident one of the many reasons I've changed." she answered, laughing humorlessly.

"No no no, I mean the _first_ time I met you." he answered teasingly.

Samantha narrowed her eyes, annoyed at his constant games. "What are you talking about? I'd never seen you in person until that night. I think I would have remembered you."

"Uh, you _sure_ about that? Cause, ya know, I haven't always looked like...this." He gestured to himself and she saw a bit of loathing in the way he did it.

"I'll give you a hint" he continued. "Your mother was still alive."

Samantha was suddenly intrigued. Her mother had died eight years ago. And if she was right on the Joker's age he would have been in his early twenties at the time.

Seeing her curiosity he smiled smugly. He'd sucked her in yet again. It was just so easy with her sometimes.

"You're gonna have to do better than that." she said "You could just be saying this shit."

Clicking his tongue in his mouth he raised his eyes to the ceiling, thinking. "Ooookay, here's this: You were working at one of your usual nowhere jobs. In a factory. I believe the factory made seat belt parts and you did...hm...data entry?" His smile turned victorious.

For a long moment Samantha stared vacantly at him. She recalled the job vividly, it had been a godawful place, rife with power tripping supervisors and disgruntled employees. The pay was good but the production workers had been driven mercilessly in the sweltering factory. Often she'd cut through the floor on her way to the office and felt sorry for the people sweating to make the day's quota. It had been a dirty, tedious job and it had made her thankful she worked behind a desk.

"Did you work there?" she whispered hoarsely. "You had to, no one could know about that unless..."

"Maybe, maybe not. Let's just say that's around the time I met you and let it go for the time being, hm?"

Easier said than done. The information was tantalizing and she wracked her brain trying to think of everyone she'd seen there. Samantha was sure she would have recalled him. She'd seen him without the makeup once and was struck by how good looking he must have been before the scars. Yes, she definitely would have remembered yet no one came to mind. Finally she gave up, knowing she was doing exactly what he wanted. This was a diversion, albeit an interesting one.

"Why don't you kill me?" she asked slowly. "You couldn't even...rape me. Why?"

He cocked his head and seemed genuinely puzzled. "I can't...ah...I can't destroy you." he answered after a long time.

Sam thought that ironic since he _was_ destroying her. She felt like she'd been dismantled and left on the ground in pieces, never to be put back together.

"You know why? We're addicted to each other. And we'll end up destroying each other because of it." she told him, seemingly unsurprised by his answer.

He drew close to her and she didn't stop him. She didn't want to. His scarred lips were on hers, softly. His tongue worked its way into her mouth, caressing hers. Samantha found that after all that had happened she still liked the feeling of his mouth on hers, still wanted it. Despite the fact they each hurt each other neither of them could pull away. Nothing could stop it.

Finally he drew away and, mouth still close to hers, whispered "I know."

--

This wasn't a good idea, letting him do this. Not at _all. _And yet, here she was, letting him. Utter insanity on her part but she wanted it. Warily, Samantha watched him as he pulled her jeans off, spread her legs and started licking her, one hand gripping her thigh tightly. His tongue was on her clit, circling, fingers inside of her, hot breath on her sensitive skin. She had given in then, letting him devour her, eyes rolling into her head, gripping his greasy hair, pulling him into her. That blissful insanity she only ever got with him overtook her and nothing mattered anymore. Biting her lip, uttering wordless cries of ecstasy she came as he lapped at her greedily.

Afterwards he took her back up into the room she started out in. It was ten floors up and he practically had to drag her. Stepping over the board and the splinters she collapsed onto the bloodstained bed and promptly fell asleep. For a long time he watched her, unsure of what he was going to do with this woman. Then, not really knowing why and against his better judgment, he lay down beside her on the dusty bed. In her exhaustion she barely stirred and he was glad of her oblivion. This was weakness, plain and simple.

Despite this he fell asleep next to her, careful to keep distance between their bodies.

--

**A/N:** So Sam's basically snapped and he is taking advantage of it. However he still can't quite get into the idea of doing her in, which for him is incredible. And the whole thing about him knowing her years ago...who knows? But he's showing some weakness towards her and she sees it but isn't sure what she'll do with it.


	6. Chapter 6 Consumed

**A/N: **Haha, another fast chapter. I just can't help myself!

This story will probably be finished soon and I really hate that. I don't have a whole lot of readers or reviewers but that's not important to me. What's important are the ones I have. I know I've said it a million times but I really appreciate your comments and reviews. You've all made this such an enjoyable experience and for that I'm very grateful!

And feel free to email me, PM me, or chat with me on Yahoo IM, oc1971jn is my name there. I'm a bit shy so I usually won't speak until you say something first (I hate to feel like I'm disturbing someone, odd quirk of mine). I'm thinking of what I'd like to write after this story is done and any ideas via chat would be welcome.

**CHAPTER SIX**

Consumed

He'd found the card in her purse. The Commissioner's card. It was well worn, attesting to the fact she'd been speaking to him for a while. Of course he knew she had been talking to him. Ever since the night a small army of cops had descended on her house in search of him.

He turned the card over and over in his hand, his mind racing. After a bit he grinned in satisfaction and went to find one of his men. This one was very young, barely into his twenties, but he seemed smarter than the rest, a necessity for what he had in mind.

"Soo, how well can you act?" The Joker asked him. "You know...lie with some flair."

Shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot the kid answered. "I can act, sure."

"Good. I have a job for you. Tomorrow you're gonna have a chat with the Commissioner and I'm going to tell you exactly what to say. I've also got a, um, _movie_ I want him to watch. And you're gonna give it to him." Smiling widely but eyes deadly serious, he placed a hand firmly on the kid's shoulder, clamping his fingers down like a vice.

"Oh, and you might want to take notes, because you really _really_ don't want to mess this up, ok?"

The young man nodded vigorously, caught between being flattered at his boss's attention and being petrified at failing him.

--

When she finally awoke she felt like she' d been hit by a truck. Inwardly laughing at the irony of that she stretched out, every muscle aching. Her leg throbbed and she cursed when she saw her torn skin and the dried blood streaking from the wounds.

Gingerly she got out of bed and limped to the bathroom. On the sink sat peroxide, bandages and a bottle of painkillers, obviously placed there on purpose. Thinking it unwise but unable to stand the caked blood and old sweat that covered her she took a shower. Once finished with that she tended to her injuries. She poured peroxide over the lacerations, wincing as the liquid fizzed up angrily. Her right leg was a mess, her shin butchered and the dog's bite above her knee garish and torn. Looking at what the Joker had done to her she shook her head angrily. The dog's bite would fade but what _he_ had done to her...that was going to leave a scar. A very distinct scar.

She bandaged herself up, dressed, and took two of the pills. On a whim she tried the door and noted with suprise it was unlocked. Not thinking twice she crept out of the room into a dim hallway, eyes taking in her surroundings. All around her apartment doors yawned open, revealing the darkened rooms beyond. She would have to pass the gauntlet of these rooms to get anywhere and the idea made her uneasy.

Creeping out into the hallway she caught the unmistakable smell of something dead and heard an oddly familar buzzing sound. Head cocked, she looked around, trying to figure out the source of the noise. It sounded like it was coming from the room across the hall and she slowly headed toward it.

Sam got closer to the open door and both the smell and sound intensified. Finally she recognized the noise as that of a swarm of flies. Her eyes adjusted to the dimness inside the room and she could see a pair of legs surrounded by a pool of dark liquid that had soaked into the filthy carpet. A dead body. And then, like a beacon, she spotted it. A faint metallic gleam by the legs, beckoning to her.

A faint shuffle behind her made her jump and she spun around to see the Joker right behind her. Christ he could be quiet when he wanted to be.

"Exploring?" he whispered, barely containing a giggle at how he had frightened her.

"The door was unlocked." she told him. "And I didn't want to sit in that room all day."

"I know." he said. "I'm the one who unlocked it."

"Then you shouldn't mind me being out."

"I don't. You're free to roam around. After your little, ha, _fit_ last night I thought it might do you some good."

Steeling her nerve she blurted out "Will you let me go?" A stupid thing to ask, but she wanted an idea of his plans for her.

His expression was one of amused disappointment. "No. Can't have you running to the Comm-iss-ioner and giving away my little hiding place, hm?"

"I assume you won't believe me if I say I won't tell him."

"Afraid not. I'm not finished with you Sam, haven't you realized that? You really think I'm just gonna, ah, let you go after all this?"

He pushed against her until she was sandwiched between him and the wall. "I mean, really, what makes you think I'll _ever_ let you go? Hm? I might just take you along for the ride. Wouldn't that be fun?"

She had figured as much.

In the darkened hallway all she could see was the stark white of his face and the red slash of that forever smiling mouth. An ache spread through her at the sight and for the thousandth time she loathed herself for it. Here was this...this _thing _shoving her into a wall, this inhuman creature, and he was beautiful to her. Beautiful, terrible and utterly irresistable. For a moment she considered going along for the ride and just as quickly shoved the thought away with disgust. What would Gordon think? What would he think of her if he saw her with the Joker willingly?

Would she one day stand by and watch Gordon die?

No. No way in hell would she do that.

"So what now?" she asked, struggling against despair, trying to concentrate on what she'd seen in that room.

"I have, ah, things to do. Business." he hissed, suddenly annoyed. "Do what you want but don't try anything funny."

She could only imagine what the 'business' was and didn't care to know.

Saying nothing more he left, receding into the shadows like a phantom. When she was sure he was gone she crept back into the room. The stench was awful but she perservered, clamping her hand over her nose to mute it. The gleam she'd seen from the hallway was exactly what she thought it was. A gun. A quick check confirmed the clip still had two bullets in it, plus one in the chamber, and she surreptiously slipped it into her pocket. A tiny hope for salvation, but what she'd do with it she didn't yet know.

She passed her time prowling the floors and halls of the apartment building. It had obviously been condemned, the power did not work in most of the place and how there was any power at all she didn't know. His henchmen silently stopped her from going any further down when she was at the seventh floor, presumably so she wouldn't escape out a window. If she tried to jump from here she would surely be badly hurt or killed. Samantha felt the men watching her every move, staying a respectful distance from her but shadowing her all the same.

Eventually she grew tired of it and went back to her room on the tenth floor.

Sitting there, watching the light fade outside, she thought of how he would never let her go and she would always want him. He might set her free one day but he would always be there, always on the perimeter of her life. She was his now. And whether he liked it or not, whether she wanted him or not, he was hers.

No, she was his possession as far as he was concerned and he would not allow her to be harmed or taken away, that would be _his_ job if and when he decided it needed to be done. The thing between them was ownership, fascination and pure lust, all wrapped up to form a dark beast that would eventually break its chains. It would break its chains and consume them and anyone who interfered.

Samantha knew all of this. She accepted it. His feelings mirrored her own and that realization frightened and exhilarated her. She told herself she was not on his level and she _wasn't_, not in most ways. But she was close. Each time she let him inside her, each time she came with him, she turned the spade and dug herself deeper. She wanted redemption but could not find it while she was with him. He wanted chaos and would not achieve it while she was around to distract him.

--

Gordon stood in his office, trying to figure out his next move. Yesterday a 911 call had come in, the caller breathlessly explaining a woman was being kidnapped right in the street. Once the address was given word reached Gordon fast. Units had been sent out, Samantha's apartment door had been beaten down. And of course nothing. She'd never made it home. Gordon knew she was the woman who had been kidnapped and he knew why.

"Goddamnit." he whispered angrily. "Why couldn't you just leave the city like I told you to?"

He'd grown to like the strange woman, had tried his best to protect her. He tried to tell himself this wasn't his fault, that she'd been warned. But it didn't work. He had dealt with constant guilt since the incident with Rachel and Harvey. Because in a small way it _had_ been his fault. He'd been too stubborn to consider his own men might be corrupt and now he wondered if his own men had also caused this to happen.

More and more he found himself hating this city, the very city he was supposed to protect. And the insane bastard who had started everything, the man he couldn't quite catch...he hated him most of all. He thought of that night so long ago when he'd caught the Joker kneeling over Batman's unconscious body in the street. What had he said?

_"We got you now you sonofabitch."_ he'd told him. Indeed. The mayhem that followed the Joker's "capture" haunted him to this day. The Joker had started a sequence of events that had claimed some of his dearest friends and had nearly cost Gordon his own family. He should have shot him right then and there. No one would have faulted him. It would have been so easy. But he couldn't do it, hadn't really even considered it then. He was a man of beliefs and integrity and he wouldn't lower himself to the level of a maniac.

Besides, he wanted the Joker alive. No martyrdom, no blaze of glory. Just a slow rot in Arkham asylum, spending his days pumped full of drugs and poked and prodded and mocked like a curiosity piece. No more minions, no more fear. He'd bring him to the level of a zoo animal.

He only prayed Samantha would be able to survive until that happened.

--

"You know...that did hurt...when you sicced the Commissioner on me."

He had come back after doing whatever "business" he'd had to attend to. They were both sitting on the edge of the bed. It was almost comforting to be like this with him.

Samantha blinked in surprise at his admission. He'd said it matter of factly, with none of his usual sarcasm or mocking tones.

Nevertheless she didn't care to tread this dangerous territory. He could act as reproachful and betrayed as he liked, the throbbing in her sliced up leg told her all she needed to know about him.

As if reading her thoughts he lightly touched her ankle, his hand only inches away from the wound he'd inflicted.

"Did you see what I put on you?" he asked mischievously. He looked like a demented child, wanting his parents to see that he'd done something bad.

Sam thought it would have been charming if she didn't know what he was talking about. And what he was talking about was the large "J" he had carved deeply into her flesh, superimposing it over her old scars. He had branded her. The Joker never was one for subleties.

"Yes, how the hell could I miss it? I watched you do it." she answered, not about to let him rattle her. Actually she didn't even feel very upset about it. She was on autopilot, functioning solely on her body's orders. Vaguely she realized this should disturb her but it didn't. The sound of the flies bothered her more than anything. Every now and then she could hear them, through the shut door, even though the dead body was across the hallway. She could still hear them, humming and alighting and crawling around the corpse on the floor.

She realized she was drifting away and snapped back, locking eyes with him.

"Maybe you should let me cut you now. Turnabout's fair play." she said, a sadistic smile spreading across her face.

"Oh realllly? And what would you do?"

"I don't know...maybe carve my full name across your throat. Think you're up for that?"

He arched an eyebrow at her in bemusement. Her eyes were blank and cold and he knew she wasn't kidding. She'd take a knife to him in a second, maybe not to kill, but definitely to hurt him, to exact a little revenge for what he'd done to her. The thought turned him on and he knew it turned her on too. She didn't even have to say it, he just _knew_. Ah but she was coming along nicely. He might have driven her a little..._crazy_ but that just made her more interesting. That potential she wasted, the potential to be a harbinger of destruction, it was coming out. All it would take was a little push and she'd be seeing things like he did.

"I'm going to the bathroom for a second." she announced and got up. He knew she was going to get her fix and he let her go, drumming his fingers impatiently as he waited on her to finish.

Finally she emerged, looking more relaxed and not limping as badly. That was good, he wanted to do a few things with her and having mobility in her legs was a necessity for what he had in mind. She stood next to the bed, looking down at him. Waiting.

"C'mere." he growled, and not waiting on an answer, grabbed her wrist and pulled her to him.

Samantha had no intention of resisting him.

--

**A/N:** So Sam's found a gun. And her sanity is going bye bye, hence her preoccupation with the sound of the flies, etc. The depth of her obsession with the Joker has gotten to a point where there's no controlling it and he's not much better off in that regard either.

The Joker's also up to something by telling one of his men to call Gordon. He wants Gordon to see the tape he made of himself tormenting Sam. So yeah, not good.


	7. Chapter 7 Lies and Truth

**A/N:** Sooo here we go. Getting close to being finished now and I don't want to stop!

Love you all, thank you so much for the reviews. I'm still looking for inspiration for the next story I may write and any ideas would be wonderful. You can send me a PM or talk to me on Yahoo under oc1971jn if you have any suggestions or just want to chat. Thanks again!

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

Lies and Truth

"Just listen to me. Please." the male voice on the other end of the phone told Gordon. The caller had his personal line, a line that very few people had. Gordon had a good idea how this guy had gotten his number.

"The woman, Samantha Knight. This is about her, but I guess you already know that." The voice was young and sounded very frightened.

"What about her? Do you know where she is?" Gordon felt his chest tighten in fear.

"Yeah I know. The Joker has her and I can tell you exactly where but you have to hurry."

Suspicious, Gordon asked pointedly "Who are you and why are you giving me this information?"

"I'm one of his men, okay? And I'm sure you know he'll fucking kill me if he knows I'm talking to you. But he's crazy, he's going to kill her and I don't want to see that happen."

"And why do you care?" Gordon snapped. "You expect me to believe that someone who willingly works for that monster would give a damn what happens to her?"

The man hesitated, Gordon could hear him take a shuddering breath before he spoke. "I don't like to see women hurt, okay? He's already tortured her, cut her up and probably raped her. And he videotaped a lot of it. I have the tape, I snuck it out. It's not finished. When he was done with it he was going to mail it to you so you could see what he's done to her."

_Christ._ Gordon ran his hands through his hair anxiously. "Okay. Tell me everything you know."

"The tape is in a trash can at the corner of Ninth street, right near a pawn shop. It'll be wrapped in a white trash bag. If you don't believe me you can come and get it and take a look. Better hurry before the garbage collectors get it."

"I hope for your sake this isn't a trap."

"I swear to God it isn't. Send someone to get the tape and decide for yourself. And I can tell you right now he's gonna kill her soon. He's already said so. But right now I have to go. I stole his tape, I'm ratting him out and now I'm getting the fuck out of town. I'll call you back as soon as I can. Just look at the tape, then you'll know I'm for real. And one last thing..."

"Go ahead."

"This was his plan: Make a video of himself doing all kinds of sick stuff to her, and then send you guys the video. Then he was gonna kill her."

"Yes and you've already told me that."

"There's more. After that he was gonna bait you guys to some warehouse by the docks. Only it was gonna be an ambush. Grenades, snipers, the whole nine yards. But if you get him where he is now he won't be expecting you. He's in The Narrows, at the old Pinnacle apartment building. He's been staying on the twelfth floor in apartment 908. You can either believe me and trust me or you can sit back and let him rip her to shreds. It'll be on your conscience."

Before Gordon could ask him anything else the voice was gone, replaced by silence.

--

The conference room at GCPD was filled with a handful of men and woman he could trust. A couple of detectives, the new Lieutenant, and Batman. He didn't want everyone seeing this. If the existence of this tape were leaked the news media would be baying for it, using the excuse of the "public's right to know". Gordon didn't want Samantha's suffering to be exploited for ratings.

It was glaringly obvious something _had_ went on between her and the Joker, just as the note he'd left in her bedroom that night had indicated. That had always been his suspicion, thrown aside in shame, but now he couldn't ignore it. The deeply personal way the Joker spoke to her, the things he said to her as he cut into her leg...

'Oh my God Sam, what have you done?' Gordon thought sorrowfully. And despite his disbelief at her actions his heart broke for her.

Her screams pierced through the cheap speakers on the tv, the knife doing its work on her. She was trying so hard not to scream, he noted, but she couldn't quite manage it. Gordon ran his hand over his mouth, trying to quell his anger and revulsion.

_"Ya know...this reminds me of doing oth-er things to you."_

"Sick fuck." someone in the darkened room muttered.

Gordon paid no attention. His eyes were on the tv screen. When it was obvious what the Joker intended to do with Samantha next he felt ill, not wanting to see it. And then, thankfully, the Joker jumped away from her.

He couldn't do it, Gordon noted in surprise. He had thought the Joker capable of anything but for some reason he was unable to to rape her.

_"I want you to know this Samantha. I could do things to you right now that your ah, _very worst nightmares _couldn't even begin to touch. But I won't. Not right now."_

The Joker stalked towards the camera, eyes wild, and the screen went to static.

Jim looked over at the dark figure seated in the corner. Batman's fists were clenched before him on the table, his tension evidenced by his thin lips and clenched jaw.

"When are we doing this?" he asked Gordon. "We can't wait too long."

"Soon. I've got men watching the apartments. We can't afford to rush into this, I still don't trust that kid."

"Has he called back?"

Gordon shook his head. "No and I doubt he will."

The static on the screen abruptly changed into a picture and everyone snapped to attention. The screen showed a tiny room, a utility room by the looks of it. Two people were present, the Joker and Samantha. Both were sitting on the floor and Sam's hands appeared to be handcuffed behind her back.

The audio on this one was hard to hear, the picture fuzzy. Everyone moved closer to the tv.

Gordon listened to their conversation intently and with each word his heart sank more. He saw the Joker take her handcuffs off, saw Samantha doing what appeared to be drugs. It was apparent she had no idea the camera was there.

They talked some more and he took note of the Joker's comment about knowing her years before, figuring that could be crucial information in the future. If he was even telling the truth that is. And then...

_"I can't...ah...I can't destroy you."_

_"You know why? We're addicted to each other. And we'll end up destroying each other because of it."_

After that it only got worse. When the Joker kissed her a few people in the room shook their heads in disbelief.

What they saw next sent murmurs of shock and disgust throughout the room. Gordon blinked, hardly able to wrap his mind around what he was seeing. She was letting him do..._that_ to her. And she was enjoying it.

"What is this Gordon?" one of the detectives snorted. "He's going down on her for Christ's sake and it sure as hell doesn't look like she's hating it. You sure she even wants to be saved? Hell, is she even worth it at this point? She could be in on..."

"It doesn't matter" Batman interrupted gruffly. "We still have to get _him_." He was hesitant to even say the name of the man he hated, not since Joe Chill had he felt so much rage towards one person. The Joker brought something out of him he liked to think didn't exist.

Gordon merely shook his head. He had no words anymore. Seeing her like this, someone he considered a friend, was one of the worst moments of his life. He felt betrayed and yet a sharp pang of pity for her pierced his heart.

The screen went black again but only for a second. It came back on to show the Joker alone in a room of one of the cramped efficiency apartments. He leaned towards the camera, smirking. His greenish blond hair was wild and he was smiling broadly, exposing rows of yellowed teeth. As always he seemed to be enjoying himself immensely.

"Soooo Comm-iss-ioner...what do you think of your little, ah, pet victim now? You really have a thing for befriending _freaks,_ don't you?"

He bit the corner of his lip coyly, bubbling with sadistic mirth.

"Would it depress you Commissioner to know how many times she's let me do..._thingsss_ to her and how she loved..._every_..._second_ ..._of it_? She _begs_ for it Commissioner, time and time again. And I bet you thought she was a good person, didn't you?" The Joker shook his head, making a tsk tsk sound.

"Oh, and if you think you can save her...come and try it. See if you can rescue her before I kill her. And I _am_ gonna kill her. It's been fun but I'm just not interested in a relation-ship right now."

With that the Joker burst into gales of hysterical laughter. The camera shut off, for good this time.

For a long moment Gordon stared at the television screen.

"We're going in tonight." he said. Hearing the edge in his voice, no one dared question him.

--

Samantha dreamed of the night of her car wreck. It played out like a movie. She watched herself get into the car, she tried to call out to stop herself. It did no good, now she was driving down the treacherous road, the snow so thick she could barely see.

"_Pull over!_" she tried to scream but her voice was silenced and there was the curve, the fateful curve that brought David into her life, who in turn had brought the Joker.

And suddenly she was back at her old job at the seat-belt factory, no longer watching herself. She was standing in the break room talking to one of the supervisors and a few new hires.

_"Introduce us." _she told the supervisor and even in the dream she knew this was something that had really happened. She looked down at the faces seated at the table.

The faces...

_"I know you."_ Samantha murmured in her sleep.

--

"Wake up!"

Someone was shaking her roughly. Dimly she realized it was the Joker and she wondered what he could possibly want. Well, there was _that_ but they had stopped only hours before and then he had left.

So why was he back?

"What?" she asked groggily. Glancing at the window she saw it was still dark outside.

"We have...visitors. Now get up, we have to go..._now_." He was short of breath and practically jumping out of his skin with excitement.

"Who exactly _are_ these visitors?"

"Who else?" he hissed, rolling his eyes in exasperation. "The, uh, the Batman, Commissioner Gordon, and an entire SWAT team."

--

**A/N:** So the Joker has tricked Gordon by having one of his men call in pretending to be a rat. The tape was to make Gordon and the rest a little more emotional and also to taunt Gordon with what he's done to Samantha. The idea is to have the authorities come in thinking they'd caught the Joker off guard. Of course Gordon is suspicious but at this point he's forced to act.

Also, his man on the phone intentionally told Gordon the Joker is staying on the twelfth floor when he is actually on the tenth. That's so they won't be expecting to run across him so soon.

And the dream...well that has to do with what he told Sam earlier, that they'd met before the semi truck incident.


	8. Chapter 8 Gravity

**A/N: **So stuff is going down. There will be one more chapter after this one and then it'll be finished.

**CHAPTER EIGHT**

Gravity

_Gordon was here._

Samantha wasn't sure how to feel about that. In a way she was happy he had found her but mostly she was afraid for him. The Joker had led them here, of that she was certain. He was way too happy about the situation. Yes, this would end badly.

She dressed hurriedly and while he was looking out into the hallway she slipped the gun from underneath the mattress and into the waistband of her jeans, making sure her shirt covered it.

'Kill him now, now, NOW!' her mind raged but she couldn't do it. As insane as it was she wanted to give him a chance. She berated herself for being a spineless fool but in the end it had no real impact on her.

If it came down to it she'd put a bullet straight into his head...but it hadn't come to that. _Yet_.

He grabbed her wrist and pulled her into the hallway. She could hear the choppy sound of a helicopter through the walls, no doubt circling the building. Gunshots rang out a few floors down.

The Joker pulled a compact machine gun out of his coat and she winced at the sight of it. Without a word he pulled her to the right. He knew exactly where he was going, that much was evident.

"Freeze!"

Samantha glanced back to see two police officers at the other end of the hallway. Why they were already up here, ahead of the SWAT team she couldn't understand.

The Joker ignored them, quickening his pace in the opposite direction.

"I said FREEZE!" one of the cops screamed and, apparently not seeing her, he fired at them. Samantha felt as if someone had pushed her hard and she stumbled to the floor. Her right side went numb and she felt wetness spreading over the area.

"They shot me." she gasped, more to herself than to the Joker.

Cursing under his breath the Joker turned, looking down at her with narrowed eyes. His weapon came up and he opened fire on the cops, the machine gun clattering angrily, muzzle flashing in the darkness. A moment later all was silent and through the gunsmoke she could make out the men's still forms on the floor.

"Just a little further." he insisted in a low voice and to her surprise he helped her up gently.

He guided her a few more feet and then abruptly veered off into one of the rooms. This one had a bedside light on, unlike the others that were totally dark. A window was open and she saw a thick steel line attached to the windowsill with hooks on it to grab onto. It led to the next building over. Samantha looked over to the Joker, getting ready to tell him he was out of his mind if he thought she was going to slide down that line when she saw him pull something out of his vest pocket. It was small and square with buttons like a telephone. A red light pulsed steadily on it.

A detonator.

More shots rang out, closer this time and a small explosion made the floor shudder.

"Ohhh they're close now." he giggled. "But I have a way out. _We_ have a way out...and then, ha, then I'm gonna blow this place up around their ears while they're standing there wondering what happened." He was obviously relishing the thought.

"You've got this place wired to blow." she muttered and he laughed, looking pleased.

"Sometimes you have to plan for the unexpected." he said cheerily. "But we're not going right now. Not just yet. Timing is everything." He was licking his chops like a hungry dog.

She leaned against the wall, she was bleeding badly and the pain was becoming unbearable. The bullet had only grazed her but that had been enough. The sharp taste of blood was in her mouth and she was finding it hard to breathe.

"I can't do that." she told him, motioning towards the window. "I've been shot...I can't do that."

"Well you're gonna have to. You can either come with me or you can stay here and die with _them_. They're going to die either way, but you..._you_ have a choice."

"Why don't you just leave us all alone." she whispered. She took him in, framed against the open window, his angular silhouette and slightly stooped posture. The icy winter wind coming through the window whipped his purple trenchcoat around him and blew his hair wildly. It was easy to see him as something less and more than human, as some sort of demon. And yet Samantha didn't want to give him up, didn't want the possibility she might never see him again.

"Oh but you don't mean that Sam. Leave you alone? Don't fool yourself, you...you don't want me to leave you alone."

He strode over and grabbed her under the arms and yanked her up. She was bleeding to death, and whether she stayed or went nothing would change that. And still he was determined to make her go with him. And when they were on the next rooftop she'd have to watch this building crumble with Gordon in it. Feigning defeat she fell against him, gathering what remained of her strength.

"You can't help me." she whispered and rested her forehead on his shoulder. He froze, but only a moment. Then his body relaxed against hers.

That was her signal. She pulled the gun out of her waistband, aiming it at his chest, pushing him back with the barrel.

"Give me the detonator." she ordered. "Don't argue, don't get cute. Just give it to me or I _will_ kill you."

He laughed at her.

Lowering the muzzle she fired, hitting him in the right shin, the same spot where her scars were and where he'd branded her. Her target was intentional. Payback, as far as she was concerned.

Surprisingly he didn't scream out, though she was sure the bullet had splintered bone. He went to his knees and she could see a spark of fury in his eyes. She was certain he'd lift the machine gun to her and readied herself to take him down.

Instead he began to giggle. God, his threshold for pain was amazing.

"Nice shot." he taunted.

She leaned forward, pointing the gun at his head again, and snatched the detonator, slipping it into her pocket. He didn't seem too upset at the loss of the device.

"Why don't _you_ use it?" he asked "Just blow them all away. The Commissioner, Batman, all those SWAT fools. _Us_. I know a part of you wants to do it."

"Of course I'm not going to do that." she scoffed. She was getting dizzy, very dizzy. Someone needed to come and soon.

He paused, head cocked, regarding her sardonically. "How long have you had that gun Samantha? Hm? For a while I bet and yet you still couldn't bring yourself to kill me. Why is that?"

"Get out. Just walk...oh I mean _limp_ out of here. I'm not going with you."

"Oh but you know you want to." he mocked. And part of her did.

Unable to keep herself up she sank to the floor, still keeping the gun trained on him.

"I'm not going anywhere with you and you're _not_ blowing this building up. The only person that's gonna die tonight will be me. Got it? That's how it is and nothing is gonna change it. So just deal with it and get the fuck out of here."

"Or what? You'll shoot me again?"

"Or you'll end up in Arkham for the rest of your life...or one of _them_ will shoot you." She was getting cold, her hands were shaking uncontrollably.

"Arkham, hmmm...yeah ya know Arkham sounds interesting. It might be a nice break from being on the run." To her dismay he didn't seem to be in a hurry to leave. He wasn't even the least bit nervous.

"Please...I can't go with you. I...I think I'm dying so it doesn't matter if I go with you. I'm still going to die either way." She didn't mention that even if she hadn't been shot she wouldn't have went with him. No, she would have taken the detonator and told him to go, just like she was doing now.

"After all I've done to you and you're letting me go. That's noble Sam, really it is."

She coughed, trying to clear her lungs so she could breathe, and felt blood splatter on her lips. "Look, I don't want them to catch you. I _don't_. But if you don't leave I'll shoot you again and this time I'll hit something important. Oh and don't forget, the Batman is here...somewhere. Do you really want to go against him now?"

Booted footsteps were thundering down the hall and Samantha could have sworn she heard Gordon's voice. The Joker had to hear it too but his attitude was nonchalant. This had all been planned, she knew, he had wanted to force her to choose. She could have life but with the knowledge she'd stood back while Gordon, Batman and many others died. Or she could have death. Her getting shot had turned his plans upside down, as did her having a gun.

Darkness crept along the edges of her vision, she could barely feel her arms and legs now. The loss of blood was too much, her body was giving out. They had to hurry.

"I'm not going anywhere." he stated "So I guess I'll be taking a little vacation to Arkham, hm? I have a feeling you will too." he laughed and she found that she couldn't disagree with him. If she made it through this she probably would find herself in the nuthouse.

Someone in the hallway shouted, they were going through all the rooms. The Joker rocked back on his heels, a sardonic grin spreading across his face.

"Time is running out Sam." he said.

"Why are you staying here?" she sighed. "You were so angry when I called them on you and now you don't care? I don't understand."

"I _told_ you, Arkham sounds interesting. Its time for a little change." his voice lowered as if he were telling a secret. "And maybe I don't want to leave you...but don't tell anyone that. People will think I'm turning, ah, soft."

"Funny." she muttered, struggling to keep her eyes open. The footsteps were in the next room now. They'd be here soon and she'd be able to sleep then.

"Samantha!!" It was Gordon and he was there in the room. A look of horror crossed his face at the scene before him. Behind him a SWAT team was converged. The Joker didn't even acknowledge them, his full attention was on her.

"Hi Jim." she said mildly.

"Put the gun down Sam, okay? Everything is okay now. Just put it down and we'll get you out of here. You know I'll make sure you're safe." Gordon's voice was halting, eyes wide at the sight of her. She wondered just how bad she looked.

She smiled at him wanly. "It's too late."

He turned his attention to the Joker, who was just leaning against the wall, smirking at them all.

"And you, drop the weapon and get down!" Gordon yelled. "And keep away from her!"

The Joker dropped the machine gun and looked at Gordon innocently before lying obediently on the floor. Instantly the SWAT team swarmed upon him. Sam's heart sank. Seeing him like this troubled her. At one time she'd wanted him captured but something had changed. It was so typical, she thought, she never could make up her mind with him.

Gordon knelt down in front of her and gently took the gun from her hand. There was tenderness in his eyes but there was also...something else she couldn't quite put her finger on. Yes, he knew now. About her and the Joker. She thought back the Joker taping her torture. What had she said? She honestly couldn't remember.

"Hang in there Sam. We can't move you." he said soothingly "But we've got paramedics on the way. We'll take care of you. Everything is going to be okay."

"I'm sorry." she breathed. It was too difficult to talk and she left it at that. He'd know what she meant.

Gordon smiled at her warmly but she could see the alarm in his eyes. He straightened up and she heard him tell someone to make sure the damn ambulance hurried.

Her eyes went to the Joker who was pinned and handcuffed. They stared at each other for a minute and Samantha wondered how it had come to this.

"Don't die Sam." the Joker said "We're not done yet. Not. At. All."

"Shut the hell up." one of the SWAT men growled and kicked him in the ribs. The Joker only laughed at the blow, eyes never leaving hers. Not caring that Gordon was watching Samantha moved forward painfully, getting as close to him as she could possibly manage. Slowly she extended her hand until it touched his face, running her fingertips over his scars. Someone ordered her to get away from him but she ignored them.

"The pain is gone now." she told him. Her voice was thin and raspy.

"Don't die." he repeated, desperation plainly written on his face. So strange that he actually _meant_ it. Those dark eyes pierced her, pulled her into their depths, reminding her of the dream she'd had before he'd woke her up.

Head bowed, blood running freely from her mouth she whispered "I forgot to tell you...I remember you."

For a second he frowned, then his eyes widened in comprehension.

The Joker was saying something to her but she never heard what it was. Samantha fell over, landing right next to him. Darkness closed in and she embraced it, letting it take her away.

--

**A/N: **So the Joker kind of shows his...errr..."softer" side here. He could have left her and went on his merry way but instead chose to stay. He doesn't want her to die and that's the one thing he can't control. He knows when she's gone she's forever beyond his grasp and his influence.

Anyways there is one more chapter, an epilogue of sorts. It isn't _quite_ finished yet.


	9. Chapter 9 Epilogue

**A/N:** Ok, this IS the end. I know this was quick but it is an epilogue and I wanted to tack it right on the end of Chapter 8. Also, there will be a 1 shot coming regarding this story and how they met before all the craziness happened. It'll probably be fairly soon.

I'd like to thank everyone who reviewed. You are all so kind. I still can't believe anyone would like my little ole amateur story. Special thanks go out to:

Devryn, Hell's Author, PurgatoryNymphe, Neesha AKA Miss Twitch BVS, iloveme5895, Strangler000, moominsRus, RubyWaters, sugar coated bullets, sapphobrazil, xxFEATHERSxx, Tipetersburg, hitachiin90, PhantasmBunny, todrownandburn, Redjackpirate.

And anyone I've left out I'm so sorry. Thanks again for making it fun.

Feel free to PM me or IM me anytime. Help me with some ideas if you want.

**EPILOGUE**

_Arkham Asylum, Six months later_

"This way Commissioner."

Dr. Peloni led him down a narrow corridor. White paint peeled off the cement walls and a few of the overhead fluorescent lights filckered wildly behind their steel gridwork. The floor was dirty and dusty. If a rat had run out in front of them Gordon wouldn't have been a bit surprised.

They descended a short flight of stairs. At the bottom an immense metal door blocked their way. Red words on a white background proclaimed 'LEVEL THREE. AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY' and below that a smaller sign advised 'Please ring the buzzer and wait for a guard to let you in.' A camera mounted into the ceiling watched them.

Dr. Peloni pressed the buzzer and gave an impatient wave at the camera. A second later the door came open with a resounding groan and two armed guards faced them, faces impassive.

Gordon had already went through a metal detector earlier but one of the guards waved a handheld detector over he and the doctor.

"We try to take every precaution on Level Three. Especially now." the doctor explained apologetically. He seemed concerned Gordon would be offended at the treatment.

"Trust me, I'm happy to know that." Gordon told him sincerely and the doctor smiled in relief.

Dr. Peloni was a small man with thin gray hair, thick glasses and a cautious expression etched into his face. He looked to be in his late sixties or early seventies. Why he wasn't yet retired from Arkham Gordon couldn't understand. Having to come here day in and day out made his own job seem tolerable.

"We have him in a special observation room, far away from the others. Follow me please." Dr. Peloni went on and Gordon followed him. On each side of them were discolored metal doors, each of them hiding Gotham's most heinous, violent criminals. The silence was broken by an occasional laugh or groan from the rooms. Down here, in the bowels of Arkham they were surrounded by the worst humanity had to offer. It was not an encouraging thought.

"No one has come to see him for a while." the doctor observed. "When he was first brought here we had a veritable parade of people wanting to see him. The curious, lovesick women, even dignitaries from other countries." He chuckled wryly. "Now it seems the novelty has worn off."

That was good, Gordon thought. The Joker loved attention, loved the public's fascination with him. The waning interest probably wounded his ego and this pleased him.

The mayor had come to see the Joker, as well as many behavioral science people from the FBI. He'd even heard rumors Bruce Wayne had visited. He still couldn't figure that one out.

They rounded a corner into a short, dead end hallway.

"And here we are." Dr. Peloni said, sounding incongruously cheerful.

To their left was a huge sheet of safety glass. It gave a view of nearly the entire cell. Gordon was reminded of the interrogation rooms at GCPD. There were no other rooms in the corridor.

"The glass is one way. He can't see us." Peloni explained.

This room was larger than the others but no less dismal. The only furnishings were a cot and a bolted down chair and table. A toilet sat in the corner. The concrete block walls were painted a light institutional green.

And there was The Joker, sitting serenely on his cot, staring into space, so still he might as well have been a wax sculpture.

"We really don't know what to do with him. His true identity is still a mystery as you well know. And I doubt we'll ever find out at this rate." Dr. Peloni told Gordon. "No doctors will deal with him face to face anymore. Only through the window."

Gordon nodded. He'd heard what happened to the first doctor. The man had asked too many questions, had asked about Samantha and the Joker had come at him with the only weapons he had left, his teeth and hands. The doctor had lived but he was permanently blind and mute, his face horrendously scarred. The Joker had gouged out his eyes and pulled his tongue out, then went to work on his face with his teeth.

The Joker had indeed become reduced to a zoo animal, just as Gordon had hoped he would be. A freakshow in a filthy dank cell.

"We have to tranquilize him whenever we need to get into his cell." Dr. Peloni grimaced at this admission but he wanted Gordon to know just how much trouble this patient was. "Sometimes he seems calm enough, even charming, but you can't ever trust him. We decided to use utmost caution in dealing with him, even if it is risky to his well being." The doctor was referring to the fact that some patients never woke up after being tranquilized.

"Wise choice." Gordon muttered, not taking his eyes off the Joker. He was stripped of his makeup, his suit and his weapons. The green was out of his hair now and it was a shade of dark blonde, his outfit the drab garb of all Arkham patients. And despite the changes his appearance was still unsettling. Even without the theatrical trappings he still had those dead eyes and the scars. He looked so young, too young to have achieved what he did.

"We have given him several rounds of experimental drugs but they don't seem to affect him much. Of course the drugs are ultimately to no avail without psychoanalysis."

The Jokers eyes settled onto the window. Although it was one way it still seemed to Gordon that he was looking straight at him.

"Does he ever say anything about _her_?" Gordon asked.

"Occasionally yes. He doesn't seem very convinced she is dead. Not long after he was brought here he screamed and laughed all night and kept saying her name. Was saying something to the effect of she wasn't really dead and he wanted to see her. Oh, and he's also asked for pictures of her." The doctor shuddered. "Of course we won't give any to him."

Gordon said nothing. It was still hard to believe he'd _let_ them capture him. As if he had planned it. He knew the decision had to do with Samantha and he wondered just how deep their mutual obsession had run. When she had slumped lifelessly to the floor the Joker had went into a frenzy, trying to get out of his handcuffs, a crazy snarling sound emitting from his throat the whole time. He had fought desperately to get closer to her and it had taken three SWAT men to subdue him.

Gordon had seen the disbelief on his face. He had seen _fear_, an emotion he'd thought the Joker incapable of. This man was a monster but he was still human.

Later on he found out one of his own cops had shot Sam, not the Joker as he'd originally thought, and the Joker had gunned the cop down. The cop had twelve bullets in his body. Yes, the Joker had been very upset with the man. That had made Gordon wonder even more.

"She is a fascinating subject, one we'd like to talk with him about. Most sociopaths don't attach to other people. Highly unusual, especially for one such as him. However she is also a very...touchy topic with him as evidenced by the first doctor."

"Be careful of what is said regarding her." Gordon warned. He didn't want the Joker to get any ideas and decide to break out of here. Getting him in had been hard enough. He also knew enough about the Joker to know he had contacts everywhere, he could even have some inside of Arkham. The less said about Samantha the better.

A smile slowly widened across the Joker's face, the scars pulling taut at the motion. Slowly he started to drum his fingers on the cot, eyes never leaving the window.

Jim started to turn away, ready to leave this dark place, when a voice stopped him.

"She's not dead ya know." The Joker called out. Gordon froze in his tracks, looking over his shoulder at him. The Joker rose from the cot and made his way to the glass. His eyes were hollow, sunken deep in their sockets and that weird grin was still fixed firmly in place.

"You can't fool me. I _know_ she's not. And I want her back. I'll, ah, find her. Again and again and again. Or maybe she'll come to me, hm? You don't _know_ her, not like I do. And I'll never stop looking for her. _Ever_. You hear me? You tell her we're...we're not finished yet. We'll NEVER be finished."

His hands were spread palms out on the window, teeth bared in an approximation of a smile, face so close to the reinforced glass that his breath fogged it up.

"See? I told you. He won't accept it. And h...how can he know you're here?" Dr. Peloni's voice was shaky. He had backed away a few feet when the Joker approached the glass.

Wanting nothing more than to be away from here, to go home to Barbara and his kids, Gordon turned and left.

--

**A/N:** So that's it. I know people are going to ask "So, IS she dead?" The story kind of leaves you hanging on that one. But yes, she is quite dead. Like the doctor said, the Joker just can't accept it.

And don't feel too bad for the Joker, you know he won't stay in Arkham long, he never does.


End file.
